Mage's death
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::As Mariston hears the news, he settles back…his mind recalling the roll of years and all that has occurred. Putting a hand to his own still thirty something face…he sighs deeply and gently holds his symbol of Torm::
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Tindra spends a quiet night with some Silverymoon Ruby wine, fondly toasting to a man who had been not only her mentor, but friend as well.
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*Z stops by the Spellweavers Keep to pay his respects….
...As he talks to some of the others, he is heard saying, "I only recently got ta know him a little. Tis a pity our paths din cross earlier."*
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Dex shakes his head at the elf, not angry, merely upset at the lack of respect for the dead.
"He did more than your sorry elven arse can ever hope to amount to."
Finishing up his drink, he draws his blade and heads out to the gate for his shift.
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Pesky elf Davanros is sneering at people raising a toast at inn. He comments dryly"only a human"
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double messege, sry
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Dex, who had just finished a shift workin' on the Militia's weapons, walks in to the inn and orders a glass of Jiyyd Creamy Stout. Upon hearing of the passing of Attentus, he raises his glass as well.
"Aye. Only knew him for a little while, but seemed to be a fine man. May the Wonderbringer's able hands guide him to whatever afterlife he so desires."
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Labur sitting next to Benji raises his glass in the toast and gives Benji two firm pats on the back
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Benji raises a pint of ale at the inn
To Attentus…
As he's unable to think of anything profound to say he just nods his head once and takes a drink.
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As the long horn sounds out throughout the night, it is accompanied by the howling of a wolf in the distance.
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Upon hearing the news, Maya raises a glass in salute, “Was only non-troublemaking wizard I know. May gods of magick watch over, and give peace to spirit. Say Hi to Adam for me if can.”
She closes her eyes for a moment in memory, then continues her practice behind the Grapevine Inn.
((OOC – Attentus has been a fixture of Narfell since ~I~ started. That’s saying a lot. I will miss his occasional foray into our characters’ lives. I’m glad to see you’re sticking around, and trying out someone new. I look forward to see what you come up with.))
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Ghostly crying can be heard, occasionally accompanied by sightings of white-winged woman, before she dances out of sight.
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A lone elven longhorn drones out a dirge in the night outside the keep.
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Targohr, not so much knowing of Attentus's death, but knowing he was going to die, enters Spellweave. He leaves his old helmet on the ground as a sign of respect for the soon to be dead, or now dead.
